


Of Tiny Kicks and Sleepless Nights

by foxtrotter31



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxtrotter31/pseuds/foxtrotter31
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair and his wife's unborn baby likes to make its presence known at the most inopportune of times. Like, say, when it's the middle of the night and they're trying to sleep.</p><p>Super fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably one of the fluffiest fics I've ever written. Takes place post-Inquisition and when the Hero of Ferelden's returned from her mission. Enjoy!

_Kick._

Toss.

_Kick. Kick._

Turn.

_Kick kick kick kick kick—_

“Eugh!” Elissa rolled onto her back in defeat, the outline of her swollen belly made visible by the moonlight shining in through the silk summer curtains. Every night for the past week it was like this. The entire pregnancy had had the baby calling the shots—when to eat, what to eat, when to vomit what it had just before _insisted_ on eating—and finally, at eight months along, when to sleep. Which, evidently, was never, if the current rate of repeated hard kicks to the abdomen every night between the hours of ten p.m. and two a.m. kept up. 

Elissa sighed wearily, placing her hands over her protruding belly. “Please, I’m so tired,” she whispered. “Just… stop kicking me. Give me one night’s rest, you can kick me all you want in the morning. _Please._ ” 

Silence. Elissa let her hands fall to her sides, letting out a breath. Waiting… waiting…

_KICK!_

“ _No,_ ” she groaned. 

Previously lying with his back to Elissa, her husband chose that moment to roll around and face his wife. Alistair let out a lazy yawn as he propped his head up on his arm, looking at her. 

“You know, it’s pretty hard to get any sleep with you tossing and turning like that all night.”

“You don’t like it, you can sleep on the couch,” Elissa snapped. 

Alistair placed his hand over the swell, rubbing in gentle circles. “That bad, huh?”

“Worse. Last night the kicking lasted for one hour, tonight it’s been two. I can’t take this sleep deprivation for much longer, Alistair.”

“Fortunate it won’t have to _be_ very much longer then,” he said with a smile, catching her hand in his.

 _Kick._

His eyebrows shot up. “Wow! That was a big one! Are we even sure that’s a human baby in there? Feels more like a Qunari. In which case, we need to talk.”

Elissa scowled. “You think this is funny.”

He shrugged, a boyish grin alighting his face. “We’re having a _baby,_ love.”

“ _We_ may be having a baby, but _I’m_ the one who has to endure all these sleepless nights.” 

They both lay quiet for a moment, him holding her hand against her belly, Alistair and Elissa both feeling the fluttering of tiny feet and hands beating against her womb. 

Alistair sat up suddenly. “I just remembered something,” he said, eyes alight with the beginnings of an idea, “Maker’s breath, how could I have forgotten? I was chatting with the Orlesian ambassador today after our meeting, talking about the baby and the constant kicking bothering you at night and all that, and he said when they’re this far along they can hear you talking to them. Isn’t that amazing?”

“I’m not sure I believe that.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I just thought that… well, maybe I could try talking to it. Maybe hearing my voice will… calm it or something. Or throw it into a violent rage. Who knows.”

“Why your voice? Why not mine?”

“I have a very—” Alistair cleared his throat, “—I have a very soothing voice, or so I’m told by all the ladies,” he said, dropping his voice down an octave.

Elissa rolled her eyes, but nodded her consent. “If you think it may help, it’s worth a shot. I’ll try anything at this point.”

Alistair dropped her hand, sliding down to the middle of the bed, pulling the sheets down. Gingerly, he lifted Elissa’s sleep shirt, exposing her belly. He lied down, resting his head against the middle and placing his hand across the top, softly stroking the skin there. 

“Uhm… Hello…erm… baby,” he started, a bit awkward. “Just ‘baby’ because you don’t have a name yet because we don’t know if you’re a boy or girl. Not that it matters, or anything, I’ll love you the same either way. I mean we’ve got names picked out, that discussion took place months ago, believe me, but I’m just going to keep calling you ‘baby’ for now. It’s just easier, you know. Don’t want to start calling you one thing and have you come out of there and be a totally different thing. That would just be confusing for you _and_ me.”

“Alistair.”

“Yes, love?”

“I’m sure the baby doesn’t care about his or her lack of a name right now.”

“Uh. Right.” Alistair smiled apologetically. “Anyway. I suppose I should…introduce myself, I guess. I’m Alistair, your father. Daddy. Whatever. _Maker’s breath,_ ” he said, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Every time I say that it hits me, like a punch in the chest. Well, not a punch, something a lot happier than a punch… more like being tackled by a mabari. A very friendly mabari who just wants to lick your face, not eat you.”

Elissa chuckled. 

“And the woman in whose body you currently reside is your mother, Elissa,” Alistair continued. 

“Hello, baby,” Elissa supplied quietly.

Alistair smiled up at her before turning his head to kiss the bump. “Anyway, your beautiful mother is a bit exhausted, and she’s worked very hard the past several months to keep you warm and safe in there, so I’d really appreciate it if you calmed down a bit and let her sleep.” 

He went quiet, his forehead pressed against Elissa’s belly for a minute before he continued. “And… I just want you to know that I can’t wait to meet you for the first time. You’re not even born yet, and I already love you. Just a few more weeks, and you’ll be here, and—”

“Alistair, the kicking’s stopped. It worked.” Elissa smiled, relieved, running her fingers through her husband’s hair. Alistair placed another kiss to her belly and climbed back up to lie beside his wife. He gripped her hand, bringing it to his lips. Elissa pulled her shirt back down over her belly and brought the sheets up.

“Huh. We should do this every night. Good daddy and baby bonding time,” Alistair mused. 

“If we do this every night you won’t be getting enough sleep either, and I doubt your advisors will relish explaining to the court why their king is falling asleep on the throne.”

“Screw court. You and our child come first.”

 _Our child._ How could just one little phrase make Elissa’s breath catch in her throat and her heart beat a bit faster?

“Do you think you can sleep now?” Alistair whispered.

“Yes. Thank you.” 

Alistair brushed his lips over her knuckles, turning to lie on his side, bringing his hand and hers to rest simultaneously over the swell of her belly. Within minutes, his breathing fell heavy. Elissa settled into the mattress, content to finally be able to get some rest. And for the first time in over a week, she fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of her child resting below her heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Alistair and Elissa thought they'd be getting more sleep after the birth of their child, they'd be dead wrong. And they don't care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to add a second chapter to this-- couldn't resist. I'm kind of surprised at myself-- fluff isn't usually my thing, but writing this was too tempting! 
> 
> Also, I wanted to mention that I recently created a tumblr for my fanfics-- my url's foxtrotter31. I haven't gotten around to posting much on it yet, but I'll be adding all of my works to that as well as here. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Nine months was a very long time to wait for something. 

Well… not _that_ long. Not as long as the many years of trying and failing to conceive. Not as long as the two years Alistair and Elissa had spent apart while she searched for a way to cure the Calling. And yet, for Alistair, the past nine months had felt like the longest he had ever waited for anything in his entire life, every day a test of his composure as he waited for his wife’s belly to grow like a Mabari waits for a treat from its master. Alistair remained a steady and supportive presence during the whole ordeal, holding Elissa’s hair back during bouts of morning sickness and raiding the larder whenever a craving struck and lending a shoulder to cry on in case of a mood swing. Normally all frenetic energy and wanting nothing more than to run about the palace yelling his excitement so the Maker himself could hear, he had kept calm and relaxed for the sake of his wife, who constantly worried that she’d spent so long wishing for a child that now that she was going to have one it’d just get taken away from her. 

And yet, nine months had come and gone without incident, and the Maker had smiled upon the elated couple as they welcomed their little bundle of joy into the world, and Alistair had come to realize nine months was hardly nothing at all. 

A tinkling cry, clear despite being quiet in volume pierced through the fog of sleep, growing louder as Alistair stirred himself awake. He sat up in bed, reaching for a matchstick to light a candle and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Elissa.” Alistair nudged at her form lying beside himself, hair askew and face planted in a pillow, dead asleep like a log. “Baby’s crying.” 

“ _Mmph_ ,” she grunted. “Your turn.” 

Alistair threw off his side of the covers, getting out of bed as the crying continued unabashed. “Do you think she’s hungry?”

“Can’t be, I just fed her less than an hour ago,” Elissa said more clearly, moving to sit up in bed. “Bring her to me, please.”

Alistair padded over to the bassinet on the other side of the room. Inside, little hands and little feet flailed as the baby cried, rubbing her tiny fists over her face. Alistair reached in, wrapping her in a blanket and gently scooping her up into his arms.

“Shh, now,” he whispered to the baby, slowly rocking her. “It’s alright, my dear. Daddy’s got you.” He turned to head back to the bed where Elissa was waiting. “Let’s go see Mummy, shall we?” 

Climbing back onto the bed, Alistair handed the baby over to his wife, and Elissa cradled the child in the crook of her elbow, cooing and rocking. Alistair sat close beside her, observing as his wife quieted their newborn daughter. The light of the candle cast a warm glow over the little one, highlighting her two perfectly pink cheeks and perfectly large eyes, eyes that stared up inquisitively into her mother’s face smiling down at her, eyes the same warm shade of spice brown as her father’s. The baby gradually stopped fussing, content to listen to Elissa’s quiet humming. After a moment, Elissa turned her tired gaze upon her husband and smiled wearily at him. 

“Hard to believe a four-day-old baby calls the shots over our sleep, yet here we are.” 

“We could start keeping her in the nursery with a wet-nurse at night,” Alistair suggested. 

Elissa hugged the baby closer to her chest. “I don’t want to,” she murmured. 

“Good. Neither do I.” 

They both went quiet, content to bask in each other’s presence.

A few minutes later, Alistair held his hands out to Elissa. “May I?” 

Elissa handed the baby over to Alistair. Cradling her to his chest, Alistair breathed in her scent—like flowers and fresh air and something totally indescribable but when Alistair had mentioned it, the midwife had just smiled and said, “All newborns smell good, Your Majesty,” and yet Alistair was completely certain that no baby in the world smelled as good as his. 

The child snuggled close to her father, and Alistair ran a hand over the back of her head, stroking the wispy blonde curls. Born a week earlier than expected, Alistair marveled at just how little she was—how her small head fit in the palm of his hand, how her little body fit snug within the confines of his arms. These first few days, he’d done little else but watch her—watch as her mother fed her; watch as friends and family cooed over her; watched as she slept in his arms, the perfect fit. 

With her mother’s nose and her father’s eyes, her features formed a harmonious blend of the two new parents, but when Alistair stared at that tiny, delicate, beautiful little face, nothing reminded him more of the woman in whose life he’d chosen to share.

“She’s perfect.” 

“So you’ve stated several times now.”

“I mean it, Elissa, I honestly don’t think anyone’s ever had a baby this great. She’s just… _wow_.”

Elissa rested her head against Alistair’s shoulder, her hand reaching out to ghost across the baby’s cheek. “I know. _Wow_.”

“I think she’s going to really take after you, you know. I can tell.”

Elissa snorted. “How do you figure?”

“Well, for one thing, she looks just like you. A Cousland nose, and all that. Her lips also do that smirky thing you do when you think someone’s said something stupid.” 

“I do not. And newborn babies don’t _smirk_ , Alistair.”

Alistair threw Elissa a cheeky smile. “Yes, you most certainly do. And I don’t care what other newborn babies do, _ours_ smirks. I can tell she’s very ironic.” 

Elissa rolled her eyes. “Right, I forgot. You’re the baby whisperer.” She leaned over, cupping the baby’s cheek. “Don’t listen to Daddy, my love. He’s just being silly.”

“And Mummy’s being mean, so you don’t listen to _her_ ,” Alistair told their child as Elissa swatted at his arm. “Anyway, let’s see, how else are you just like your mother? You’re smart, obviously, practically a genius even, I’m sure all the other babies out there are just begging you to share your superior knowledge of the world. You’re beautiful, that one’s a given. You’re going to be a fantastic warrior one day—”

Elissa cut him off. “How do you know? Was she swinging a sword around while I wasn’t looking?”

While Elissa was speaking, the baby wrapped her hand around Alistair’s index finger, holding it to her little chest.

“Strong grip.” 

“Ah.”

“And lastly,” Alistair said, staring into his baby’s eyes, entranced, “I’m madly in love with you, the same way I am with your mother. Well… not the _same_ way, it’s a different kind of love… oh, you get it.” 

Elissa snuggled closer to her husband, pressing her lips to his shoulder. “She takes after you, too, you know. She has your eyes,” she murmured softly.

“You do have my eyes, it’s true,” Alistair smiled, placing a kiss against his daughter’s forehead. “I guess you’ve got some of me in you after all, Eleanor.” 

“Hmm,” Elissa hummed in approval, her eyes having closed and breathing growing heavy. Alistair kissed the top of her head as she nodded off against his arm. 

He thought about bringing Eleanor back to her cradle, but instead was content to remain and watch his little girl’s chest rise and fall with every tiny breath. 

_No_ , he thought, _a nine-month-long wait is hardly anything at all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been watching a lot of The Office lately, so 10 points to anyone who noticed a tiny reference lol.
> 
> Also, I head canon that my warden was very close to her mother, so she'd want to name their baby after her.


End file.
